Silhouettes

Home was a word he wasn’t quite used to using yet. Home was supposed to be a haven. It wasn't somewhere one would be scared to be at. It wasn't somewhere one would think of running from all the time. But he preferred his case. It felt safer than home. No one would attack him or his creatures. Nothing would hurt him. The ghosts of his past wouldn't hurt him there. There was still something about home that would take him back there every time he ran away. Each road he took led him back home. No place could feel better than home, though all that place had to offer him was fear, hurt, tears and scars.

Tina and Queenie’s home felt different. The apartment tucked away in the city was quite ordinary on the outside, with worn shutters and vines slithering up the edges of the brick walls. Inside was the gentle crackling of the hearth, chairs pulled inward to invite others towards warmth. He could almost hear the soothing music coming from the Victrola and smell the aroma of strudel. A smile spread out across his face as he set his case down momentarily and adjusted the small blue bundle in his arms. 

He remembered he had to be quiet upon entering, less he be on the receiving end of Mrs. Esposito’s wrath. For a moment, he thought Calliope to be asleep, but the small tugging against the thin material of his shirt proved otherwise.

Tina glanced at him briefly, eyes quickly scanning the still girl in his arms. She hadn’t moved yet to slip past the wards on the building complex. “You must be tired,” she commented, eyes meeting his once more. There was still concern, the ever-present glimmer of worry reflecting in her deep brown eyes. “I can take her, if you want.”

From the small grip on his shirt tightening, he only smiled at his good friend tiredly. “It’s alright, Tina. I can manage.”

“I’ll take your case for you, then.”

She picked it up, and if he had any protests, they died before he could utter a single one. The apartment building was as quiet as a graveyard. He followed Tina quietly up the stairs, the other tenants in the building as quiet as mice scuttling about in the kitchen. Tina’s dark hair flowed about the end of her neck, brushing past the top of her shoulders. She had mentioned to him earlier about needing a haircut, but hardly having any time to do it. With the disappearance of Credence, Modesty, and the rest of the Second Salemers in general, Queenie had whispered to him that she spent many late nights in her office trying to hunt the remaining members all down.

He smiled wanly, reminding himself to later remind Tina to take a break. The image of Director Graves crossed his mind as well and he shook his head to free the thoughts from his mind. He wasn’t sure if telling the director to take a vacation was such a good idea. He’d heard fables from Tina, Queenie, and other aurors of those who had suggested that Percival Graves take a vacation.

“The only one,” O’Malley had stated in a mock form of seriousness when he had asked him about it one day. “To have ever survived saying that was President Picquery.”

If he were a fool, he might have believed that Graves had killed the aurors, but the mischievous smirk on O’Malley’s lips proved otherwise.

Tina tapped the door with her wand, quietly saying the password before it opened, letting in the sounds of soft jazz and the scents freshly prepared food. Queenie stood in the center of the parlor, wand out and adjusting the temperature of the fireplace with her wand. The crackling sound drowned out the small taps of rain hitting against the glass window panes.

Lightening the bleak atmosphere, she smiled as they entered and tucked her wand away in the pocket of her soft pink dress. “Welcome back,” she gave Tina a quick hug before her blue gaze homed in on Calliope. “Oh goodness,” her lips pressed into a worried line as she rushed towards him. She peered curiously at the girl, who decided to then bury her face into his shoulder. “I have soup ready; she should at least eat something.”

He glanced at the grandfather lock in their parlor. Only a few minutes past eleven; much too late for a child this young to be up and about. Queenie was right, though, it was better for her to rest with a full stomach. Slowly, he kneeled to set Calliope down, making sure she was steady on her feet before removing his hands from her small shoulders. She stood very still next to him, almost as if she were glued to his side.

“Hey there honey,” Queenie smiled at her gently, speaking in a soft reassuring tone. “My name’s Queenie. Over there is my sister, Tina. Do you like soup? I made some soup for you if you would like.”

She moved forward to usher to the girl to the kitchen but Calliope instantly shrinked back, opting to hide behind his left leg.

Queenie only glanced at Tina, and he was suddenly felt both their gazes on him. He sighed, resting a hand on Calliope’s shoulder. “It’s okay; Queenie’s a friend. She won’t hurt you, and neither will Tina. How about we sit down and have some soup? Queenie’s cooking is really good, I promise.”

There was a brief pause before she nodded. She didn’t move until he offered his hand out, allowing him to lead her across the parlor to the small dining area. When he offered to remove his coat from her body, she stiffened once more, and her small fingers tightened around the blue material.

Perhaps he would need to buy a new coat? He smiled, shaking the thought away and sat down in the chair next to her. Queenie waved her wand once, her wrist twisting in a quick movement that lifted four bowls and plates from the cabinet next to the stove. He watched as Calliope’s eyes flickered with curiosity as the dinnerware was set in front of her, and he briefly pondered if she had ever seen magic before.

He quickly met Tina’s eyes, and knew she must have been thinking the same thing. Queenie seemed to pay no mind, concentrating on setting the bowl of mashed potatoes, chicken noodle soup, and freshly baked rolls down on the dining table.

He wasn’t feeling particularly hungry, though. The smell of blood from that house and the damp sewer water from the warehouse still clogged his nose. He had a feeling Calliope wasn’t very hungry either, for even when a serving a mashed potatoes and soup was put in her bowl, she didn’t even do so much as to lift her spoon.

She jumped when a soft rumble of thunder was heard, the rain now hitting the windows even harder. She bit her lip, grimacing at the pain from slightly tugging at the stiches that a mediwitch had given her once she had been evacuated from the warehouse.

Her eyes would always find a way back to him, he found himself noticing as he poured a little more soup into his bowl. He smiled softly at her, which promptly caused her to look away and continue to stare down at the food in front of her. After watching him eat, she finally picked up her spoon and gathered a small helping of potatoes.

He noticed Tina smiled as well, a sigh of relief escaping her as she buttered a roll. She turned to her sister thoughtfully. “I don’t think I have anything that’ll fit her. Do we still have some of our spare clothes from when we were younger?”

“Hmm, I don’t think so,” Queenie hummed, resting her chin briefly on her hands. “I’ll see if I have anything that might work for tonight. Her house is still a crime scene, right?”

Tina cleared her throat awkwardly. “Yes.”

“Alright, I’ll see what I can do.”

The rest of their dinner was in silence, with only the scraping of silverware and the occasional rumble of thunder that could be heard. The child merely poked at her food with vague interest, only taking a few bites every now and then. It was better than nothing, he supposed, though he didn’t blame her for her loss of appetite. Even Tina only took a few bites, chewing the food mournfully as her eyes gazed off into the distance, the bags now very evident.

The girl couldn’t stay here forever, he thought to himself as he took a sip from his tea cup. He could look after her, with Tina and Queenie’s assistance, but he knew nothing of raising children. Creatures and children were two very different things. His mother and Theseus had more experience than he did, but he doubted that his older brother wanted to get involved in a case like this. Theseus had always been a bit, well, overbearing for reasons he never quite understood. He was perfectly capable of taking care of himself, something that seemed to flabbergast most people.

Theseus would probably try to talk him out of taking care of the girl, Percival as well. He could understand their reasoning, but while he was inexperienced, he knew what was best for her at the moment. Her whole world had been shattered in a single day and in the process, she had lost something she would never have again. He sympathized with her, knowing what it was like to be alone in a place where he wasn’t wanted.

A tugging on his shirt sleeve drew his attention away and back to the small dining table. Calliope had gotten up somewhere during his musings and was pulling very adamantly on his shirt sleeve. “Are you done eating?” he asked gently, receiving a nod from her. He pushed his chair back, resting a hand on her shoulder. “Are you tired?”

Again, she nodded.

“I’ll go see what I can find,” Queenie stood up with the gracefulness of a ballerina and waltzed out of the room, disappearing behind one of the doors. She was gone for several minutes, leaving the three of them to silence. When she finally returned, it was with some very long, white cotton night gown. She placed it into the child’s arms, indicating towards the direction she just came from. “You can get dressed in there. When you’re done, you can have my bed. Does that sound alright, honey?”

She still said nothing, which made the two sisters look at each other once more. Tina sighed, settling her spoon down and waved her wand once to gather up the dishes. The water in the sink turned on by itself, momentarily catching the girl’s attention before Queenie led her away towards her room.

The moment they were gone, Tina rounded on him. “She doesn’t say anything,” she said so softly he almost didn’t hear her. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen cases where they’re quiet for this long.”

“She just lost her parents and was tortured by the very same people,” he smiled sadly, trying to push away the image of Percival carrying her out, her back open for all of them to see what those men had done to her. “She’s still in a state of shock, I think. I can’t say how long it will last.”

“None of the other kids we found had that symbol engraved into their skin, so why her?” Tina questioned out loud, fingers tapping against her chin in deep thought. Worry lines heavy around her eyes making her appear older than she looked. “I just don’t believe it’s solely based on the fact her father was an auror and her mother a no-mag.”

She brought up a point that had been stirring in the deep subconscious of his mind. Ashwood had hidden his secret very well, so well that the traffickers hadn’t noticed the first time around.

“They’re lovely, by the way. I commend you on being able to hide them for so long. You know where to find me.”

The note that still lay on Percival’s desk revealed so much, yet so little. Eloquent handwriting hiding in plain sight the secret of the case. Ashwood knew who this person was; had obviously spoken to them before. What was their connection? How had they known each other and had Calliope ever seen them?

“The girl’s not a no-mag,” Tina said softly after taking a long sip of her tea. She stared at the contents in the cup, the steam having long ago vanished. Her eyes wouldn’t meet his as she spoke, “You could sense it, couldn’t you? She has magic.”

“Yes, I know,” he could sense her magic from the moment Percival had carried her out of the warehouse. Her magic had been pulsating gently, like the tides of the ocean. Clean and soft, with the purity and innocence of a young child with little experience of the world. Hiding behind the facade, though, he could feel its power. Like the water, her magic was powerful, with enough force that crashed over him like an unrestrained tidal wave.

Illvermorny would hopefully have another great student to make them proud.

He eyed the case that had been left next to the couch, the reminder that he had to feed his creatures the only light on the bleak situation. He grasped the handle, laying it down on the ground to open it and when he was making his way down the ladder, a hand suddenly grabbed the light material of his shirt.

Calliope was staring at him, black hair pulled out of her face by one of Queenie’s ribbons. Her body was engulfed in a cream-colored night gown that was much too big for her, but she didn’t seem to care as her grip tightened. Queenie smiled apologetically. “She saw you getting in the case and jumped off the bed,” the blonde took her by the shoulder with a soft, delicate hand. “It’s okay, Calliope, Newt will be up with us in the morning.”

The girl shook the hand off her, fingers almost digging into his skin. He recognized the fear in her eyes glowing from unshed tears, the way her lower lip trembled ever so slightly. She was afraid, he realized abruptly. She was afraid, in a strange place that belonged to people she didn’t even know and for whatever reason that was unknown to him, she decided that he was her security blanket.

“It’s alright, Queenie,” he said reassuringly to his friend, stopping her from attempting to pull the child away. “She can stay in the case tonight.”

Tina raised an eyebrow at this. “Do you even have enough room in there?”

He gave her a shy, tentatively cheeky smile. “I’ll manage.”

He motioned for the girl to follow him down, making his way towards the bottom and waited for her. He worried, as he waited and watched as she took cautious steps down, that she would lose her footing and fall. The night gown really was too big and while he appreciated Queenie’s efforts at making quick adjustments for it, he wondered if it was at all possible to return to her home and get some of her clothes.

Was that even ethical? He’d have to ask Theseus or Percival.

The house had seen better days. Years ago, the white paint was a smooth unbroken layer and the window frames a brilliant white on top of new wood. Yet, as fifteen years went by since first acquiring the case, with no thought to maintenance had reduced it to the kind of place that any realtor would hate to list. No one else would want it, but it worked perfectly for him. Just enough space to house his workspace and tucked in a corner was his bed that he never bothered making. It was messy and chaotic, but he knew where everything was, so it fit his needs well.

She stood in the middle of the small room looking terribly out of place, peering curiously around his body to take a look at the creatures outside. He had to smile at that, rummaging through one of the cupboards above for an extra blanket. She shuffled past him to look out the open door, hand placed gingerly on the frame and eyes wide as she took in the sights. A few stopped what they were doing, the Dung beetles and the family of graphorns eagerly awaiting their meal stopped to stare back at her. Gazes flittering from her to him as if to suggest how incredulous they thought he was to bring her here.

He found what he was looking for, throwing it over his shoulder and moved to stand beside her, smiling encouragingly. “This is Calliope, she’s a friend of ours,” he added, giving them each a look that hopefully told them that she wasn’t a threat. “She’ll be staying here for an indefinite amount of time.”

A hand found their way to his and pulled on it lightly. She was looking towards the bed with a sleepy look, silently reminding him why she was down here. He gave a quick sigh, “Come on now,” he said to her serenely, leading her to where he usually slept. She hopped up on it, getting underneath the covers and staring up at him with an unreadable expression. He tucked her in, speaking to her quietly, “If you need anything, I’ll be here. I won’t leave you here alone, I promise. Sleep well.”

She snuggled underneath the blankets, eyelids heavy before they closed together. He stayed a few moments in the house, getting the creatures’ food ready but still listening as her breathing evened out. The ones outside still looked in her direction, obviously not knowing what to think quite yet. Much like how only last December when a certain muggle entered and instantly fell enchanted.

Of course, they liked Jacob now, he noted, and it was hard not to. The American baker enjoyed coming down to help him, or just sit and chat for a while. He was a great listener and like most Americans he’d met, they were not afraid to voice their opinions at any moment. Muggle or not, it was one thing they shared in common and it was a pity they couldn’t see past that.

Dougal stayed inside the house, gathering up herbs and other plants for the creatures who did not eat meat, yet his gaze still fell on the sleeping girl. He didn’t poke at her, or stare too long, he just merely observed her. Eventually he came out, eyes motioning back towards the house as if he were asking why she was there.

“Her parents were murdered,” he told the demiguise as he gingerly fed the occamys in their nest, keeping his vision on them so they wouldn’t accidentally bite off one of his fingers. Dougal only blinked at him once before his eyes retreated to looking at the house. He wiped his hands on his pants, grabbing the bucket for the mooncalves as he spoke, “We don’t know who did, or why. They took her, you see, but they made it too easy for us to find her. Whoever did this to her wanted her to be left alive.”

He suppressed the sudden chill that involuntarily crept its way down his spine. Dougal just stared at him, and with the way his eyes stared down at him, he knew exactly what the rare creature was thinking. “No, Dougal, I don’t think he had a part to play in it this time.”

Whatever was going on, it could wait. He grabbed an extra pillow and blanket the moment he was done feeding his friends, opting to set up a make-shift camp where Missy usually slept. She was busy sleeping in her pile of stolen gold, not even noticing him as he settled down. Up above it was dark, with the illusion of a moon and stars he’d created over time to give a resemblance to the outside world.

Staring at it, he fell asleep, mind heavy with deep thoughts that he managed to push away to corners of his mind…

He dreamed of his childhood; of summers spent outside and winters that brought the delicate snow that laced the ground like powdered sugar on his mother’s ginger loaf. The happy years, before Theseus went off to Hogwarts and left him with a feeling of loneliness that could only be cured by being around the hippogriphs and studying the garden gnomes. In the seasons when Theseus was not home, he would explore as much as he could without getting caught by their parents. They worried more than most parents for reasons he didn’t quite know.

There was a store in the old village where they lived that sold muggle candy as well as wizard’s. It didn’t cost a penny anymore, but it was all the same stuff to him. There were little hard sweets that tasted like soap, toffees and peppermint sticks that were kept in clean, ordinary jars. Then of course there was the wizard candy imported all the way from Honeydukes, where on rare occasions, they were permitted to get Acid pops, chocolate cauldrons, chocolate frogs or anything else their small hearts desired. They could only self-serve in little scoops to white paper bags and the walls were adorned with nostalgic black and white prints from decades ago.

The frontage had been redesigned to look like a heritage building. The bay front window was broken into rectangles by a lattice of white wood and the door was a glossy cherry red. The owners, happy old married couple, still greeted everyone as “sir” or “ma ’m” regardless of blood status. It wasn’t a grand store like Honeydukes, but it still offered a homey vibe that was hard to find in some buildings.

One summer day in July, they had been allowed to go. It was particularly hot, and Theseus had been given strict orders, “Look after Newton. Don’t let him cross the street on his own; hold his hand. And for the love of Merlin if he sees a stray dog or cat, don’t let him pet it!” To which Theseus nodded curtly, with every intention of listening to their well-meaning requests.

His brother had just turned eleven and was very excited to go to Hogwarts. He received his letter in the mail a week ago and would not stop talking about it. His storm gray eyes were wild with excitement and although he had been happy, he clutched his older brother’s hand tighter with apprehension. He was a selfish boy, he thought to himself, wanting Theseus to stay at home with him and their parents. Not that he was ever going to tell his beloved older brother these thoughts, for Theseus would just get angry.

They had decided to grab ice cream at the store one day, with Theseus having to wipe his face a few times like a mother hen regardless of his protests that he could do it himself. His older brother had huffed, muttering darkly under his breath about looking after his little brother and how he wasn’t going to be able to once he went to Hogwarts.

The mood had shifted after that, with Theseus asking him about any new lawn gnome discoveries. It kept them occupied for another half hour, with his older brother looking at him with a patient smile. They decided to bring back a few more sweets, along with some cauldron cakes for their parents. He waited by the cherry red door, gazing out the window towards the people living out their daily lives. Theseus was in line, holding the little bags they’d filled up and talking with one of his schoolmates who was going to Hogwarts as well.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed something run by. A scruffy dog, with patches of matted fur and an injured leg, had settled outside the shop. It panted, blinking at watching the people who ignored it as they walked by. He glanced over at his brother carefully. Theseus was distracted, laughing at something his friend said. He wouldn’t mind terribly if he left for a few seconds, right? He would come right back, just as if he’d never left.

He managed to sneak out the door right as another customer walked in, the bell attached ringing jovially. In his hand were the cauldron cakes Theseus had asked him to hold and he took one out, kneeling down to the dog’s eye level. “Here you go, doggy,” he grinned as the dog accepted the cake, tail wagging happily as it swallowed and then looked at him with expecting brown eyes. He smiled sadly at the pitiful creature. “I’m sorry, if I give you more, Thee will get angry with me.”

“I do believe that sweets are not good for dogs. Correct me if I am wrong, though.”

He jumped at the soft, foreign voice that sounded from behind him. He turned quickly, eyes widening at the cloaked figure standing across from him. He backed up, the dog whimpering slightly out of fear. He couldn’t see much of the man’s face, only the small quirk of his lips. “Hello there, little one. What’s your name?”

“Theseus…told me not to talk to strangers,” he backed up even further, avoiding the man’s gaze. Even though he still couldn’t see much, there was a nagging voice that told him to get away. The man chuckled as he stepped towards him. “Your brother is a smart boy. You should mind him more, Newton.”

He only swallowed and out of fear, the dog hobbled away. He looked over his shoulder, watching briefly as it limped away and when he returned his gaze back to the man, he found he was much closer. His body tensed, ready to take flight when a hand landed on his head. Long fingers gently massaged their way through his curls affectionately and he was met with the great impression that this man knew him. Question was, who was he? More importantly, how did he know his name?

He opened his mouth to ask the man only to find himself once again alone in front of the store. Most people who walked by ignored him, not even paying him a glance as he stared at the direction the man had been. The glossy red door burst open, revealing a very upset and worried Theseus. “Newton Artemis Fido Scamander!” the older boy hissed, setting their bags momentarily on the ground and resting his hands on his shoulders. “Where were you? What have I told you about wandering off? You had me worried sick!”

He felt bad, the guilt washing over him like rain. “I’m sorry,” he whispered, avoiding his brother’s stormy gaze. “There was a dog and…”

He couldn’t finish the last part of the sentence; he was sure Theseus would be even more angry with him, so he kept it to himself. Not that it went unnoticed by his older brother. “And what?” he asked, voice tense and his eyes hiding an emotion he couldn’t read.

“And,” he cleared his throat, quickly coming up with an answer, “The dog was hurt, Thee! I wanted to-“

“There’s nothing you could have done for it,” Theseus sighed, but looked less angry than before. He took him by the hand, the other reaching for the small bags. “Come on, let’s go home.”

Everything blurred, and the memory turned into a simple mist. He was left with a heart that thumped steadily in his chest. It was better, he supposed, than thinking about things that were painful. Yet he still felt like he was in a frigid steam room with every breath. His eyes flew open, landing on the makeshift stars in the sky. He wasn‘t sure what time it was, only that most of the creatures were sound asleep in their nests. He smiled as Missy cooed, gathering more treasure around her body as she slept. The soft noises made a smile turn his lips, and he closed his eyes once more to the peace.

Only to have them fly open at the sound of a scream.

He tumbled out of his make shift blanket, tripping over one of his mooncalves as every creature in the case woke up at the sudden sound. The scream wasn’t from one of the creatures, so that only left one other option as he stumbled into the small house. Calliope sat up in her bed, no longer screaming but crying quite loudly. Loud wailing sounds, like a newborn taking their first breath. He hurried over to her, taking a spot on the end of the bed and resting a hand on her shaking form. “Calliope,” he spoke firmly, yet gently. She was shaking, her face wet and blotchy with tears and her bottom lip quivered. Her eyes widened when she realized he was sitting next to her. She scooted closer to him, looking as though another sob would burst past her lips. “Calliope,” he spoke again, and she attached herself to him, small arms wrapping around him. The creatures poked their heads in the doorway and windows but made no move to enter. He rocked her back and forth, a calming technique his mother and Theseus used on him when he was her age. “It’s alright, you’re safe. You’re safe here, Calliope.”

She continued to shake like a leaf, tightening her arms. A sound broke out, soft and broken, allowing him the realization that she had spoken, “Mommy, Daddy,” she whispered, voice hoarse from the crying. “Where are they?”

“They’re gone,” he didn’t lie to her, even when fresh tears spilled down her pale cheeks. Lying to her wouldn’t do any good; nothing could bring them back. “But you’re here, and safe.”

“Hurts,” she whimpered, burying her face in his shirt.

“Is it your back?” he asked gently, to which she nodded. He smiled softly. “I can help. There’s an ointment that I can create to ease it. Would you like that?”

She nodded, removing her arms so he could get up and go to his work station. The balm only required a few simple ingredients that were easy enough to find in the house. He worked in silence, missing herbs and water together to form a paste. Completely aware of her dark brown gaze on him. He gave her a quick smile, noting that she had stopped crying though a few tears still fell down her face. It was good, he thought to himself, that she was speaking once more.

“The bad men,” she said so suddenly that he almost knocked over one of the vials on the bench. He tensed, eyes still staring at the opaque mixture in the bowl. She sniffled, arms wrapping around her knees. “They…they took Mommy away from me.”

“Director Graves has them in custody, they will not be going out into the streets ever again,” he assumed they would be given the death sentence and he tried not to think about his last experience in that room. He moved back towards the bed, setting the bowl on the table. “The men that took the lives of your parents will pay for their crimes. Can I see your back?”

He looked away as she undid the top buttons of the night gown, turning around on the bed so he could see her back. The symbol was huge, taking up most her back with the tip of the triangle nearing her shoulder blades. The ink would never leave her skin, forever leaving a reminder of what happened to her and her family.

Greater good indeed, he snorted. Around the ink were small red bumps, most likely causing the pain and leaving an angry red impression. It would heal in a few days, the paste helping, but the inked scar would last a lifetime. “Merlin’s beard,” he muttered softly, applying some of the paste on her back gently. She flinched from the stinging but said nothing. She, he grimly realized, had been through worse. “Sorry about the stinging; it shouldn’t hurt for much longer.”

She nodded, turning her head to observe him. She still looked tired, but her eyes were alive. A harrowing question burning in them as she asked, “When can I go home?”

Sadly, he did not have an answer to that question. He set the paste back down on the table and she began to button up the dress once more. He pressed his lips together in a thin line. “I don’t know,” he answered after a moment’s thought. She tucked herself back in the bed, a frown forming as she most likely tried to find a reason. “We’ll go into MACUSA later today and see what can be done, alright?”

“Okay.”

She turned her back to him, laying on her left side. He wanted to block out the quiet sniffles, but found he couldn’t as he stayed with her till she fell asleep once more.